


Once, Long Ago

by wbss21



Category: The Avengers, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Emotional Abuse, Gen, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki and the Avengers become friends... eventually, Loki is a BAMF, Mentions of Past Torture, Physical Abuse, Thor and Loki are actual real gods, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wbss21/pseuds/wbss21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle against Dr. Doom is a losing one, the Avengers struggling badly against a newer generation of Doombot, and the Latvarian dictator himself. Until they receive some unexpected help in the form of Thor's wayward and villainous little brother. In the aftermath, revelations will be made about Loki, understandings will shift, and new friendships formed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"We're losing ground Cap." Tony's voice comes through the com in Steve's ear.

To anyone else, Tony would sound glib and calm as ever, but Steve can hear the edge in his tone, the stress.

"I know." He answers, gritting his teeth as he pushes back with his shield against the Doombot currently trying to take his head off.

"There's too many of them." Tony goes on, unhelpfully.

"I know!" Steve snaps.

He isn't as strong as this thing, and using brute force against it isn't going to work, he realizes. He needs to use it's own momentum against it, and so he changes tactics, letting his shield skid along the robots metal frame and off. When it stumbles forward with the loss of his resistance, he spins, smashing the edge of his shield against the back of the bots neck, hard and fast, severing its head in one, clean blow.

"Nice one Cap." Tony says, before the sound of his rupulsor blasts drown the rest of his voice out.

Glancing up, and he sees Tony rocketing overhead, at least half a dozen of Doom's machines on his tail.

Bringing his eyes back to the ground, looking around him, his heart begins to sink as he realizes just how truly outnumbered and outgunned they are.

There's got to be a hundred or more of Doom's machines. And then there's Doom himself, deciding this time to join the fray.

When they'd gotten the call that the Latvarian leader was attacking mid-town Manhattan, Steve had figured, along with the rest of the team, that it would be business as usual, Doom sending in twenty or thirty of his bots to stir up some trouble. A relatively easy containment situation.

But when they'd arrived on scene, it had been nothing like that at all.

The robots themselves had been their first indication that Doom was maybe more serious in his intent than usual, the tech on the things vastly more advanced than anything they'd yet seen from the dictator, the Doombots proving infinitely more difficult to take out, and incredibly more dangerous and effective in their attacks.

The second indication had been Doom himself being there, and that was spelling bad news for everyone involved.

Doom was insane. He was insane, and extremely, frighteningly powerful. A magic user, though Thor had told the team repeatedly that Doom's magic was not innate. That he had somehow unlocked how to harness the naturally occurring magical energy of their realm, how to harness it and focus it.

Whatever the case, none of them were really equipped to deal with the madman besides Thor himself, able as he was to counter Doom's attacks with his hammer. Only currently, their resident Thunder god was too busy fighting off hordes of Doom's robots to focus on the culprit himself.

That left Wanda who, though she'd been progressing in her training admirably, and had shown incredible power herself, her magic innate to her, unlike Doom, still, she was only a kid with technically very little combat experience, and was still learning how to control her abilities.

Doom was at that moment making a fool of her, playing with her as he easily, almost casually countered her attacks, returning her fire with his own blasts of magic, very obviously not meant as lethal, but rather as a means to humiliate her. And it was working. Looking over, Steve could see Doom swat aside another of Wanda's blasts like it was no more than an irritating fly, before hurtling his own back at her, the blast of blue light drilling into her midsection and knocking her flat onto her back.

He felt his jaw clench, fear churning unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach.

"Thor," he starts. "You need to come down and take care of Doom. Maximoff's in trouble."

"I am trying, Friend Steve." He hears Thor answer, a biting growl following on the heels of the reply. "Only I am presently occupied, as doubtless you can see. There are a great many of these mechanical men."

"No shit Sherlock." Clint's voice comes through, sounding ragged and strained. "Cap, we're fucked here. We've barely made a dent in these bastards."

Steve barely even notices the fowl language, his eyes fixed on Wanda and Doom. He only gets a moment to see the dictator moving towards her prone, unmoving form, before he's suddenly attacked by three more machines, his focus dragged away.

"No!" He snaps, fear plummeting like a stone into the pit of his stomach. "Thor, Maximoff needs you now!"

He gets no reply from the god though, only sudden static as he struggles badly against the Doombots, the ambush demanding all of his strength and concentration.

He keeps shooting his gaze towards Wanda and Doom, his panic almost choking him as he watches the dictator continue to stride, slow and nonchalant towards his downed teammate. He has to get over there, Steve thinks desperately. He has to...

His loss of focus costs him, as he's hit square in the chest by one of the bots repulsor blasts, knocking him to his knees, losing grip of his shield, the thing skittering away from him against the torn up concrete of the ground.

He barely manages to roll away, out from under one of the bots descending feet, meant to crush his face, and as he comes up onto his knees, he again snaps his gaze to Wanda and Doom, pushing himself to standing, already beginning towards them.

He has no idea how he's going to stop Doom, but he has to try.

His eyes widen then as he sees a man walking towards them from the opposite direction. A civilian, from the looks of him, dressed in nothing but a white, short sleeved t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting sweat paints. He's bare foot, tall and skinny and, oh Jesus Christ, the idiot is going to get himself killed!

"Wait!" Steve yells, both in an attempt to distract Doom from Wanda, who he now stands directly over, and to warn the civilian away.

His attempt seems to accomplish neither, as Doom crotches down over his teammate, hands poised above her, as if to perform some horrible ritual, and the civilian just continues dumbly forward, clueless, it seems, to the danger.

Blue light begins to gather round the dictators spread hands, growing brighter by the second, gaining strength.

Oh God, Steve thinks, breaking into a full on sprint, Wanda is going to die. He's going to lose another soldier. He's going to...

And then the civilian is at Doom's back, and Christ Almighty, he's got his hand on the dictator's shoulder. Is saying something to him.

Doom begins to stand, to turn, his every aspect hostile and violent, and this fool man is going to get himself turned to dust, Steve thinks, he's going to die, and Steve isn't going to get there in time to save him. To save anyone.

And then it all comes into focus.

Thirty yards out, and the Captain all at once sees who it is... who the civilian is. Tall and skinny, almost scrawny even, with hair blacker than obsidian, skin white as fresh fallen snow.

His hand on Doom's shoulder suddenly squeezes, and Steve watches as the madman's armor crushes in like an aluminum can underneath a heavy boot.

He sees Doom panic, flailing out, groping for the man, thick, metal fingers burying in the material of his t-shirt, blue energy beginning to form.

That's as far as he gets, before he's lifted bodily off the ground, easily as if he weighed nothing at all, and thrown, violently, through the air, crashing with shaking impact into the road's asphalt.

There's a flash of blinding, green light. Steve turns from it, searing against his eyes, and when he looks back, Loki is standing over Doom, still dressed in the same, flimsy clothing, reaching down towards the fallen dictator.

The Captain isn't even sure what it is that happens next.

There's another flash of green, like the color of pine needles, a scent filling the air much the same, and Loki's fingers have punctured the metal of Doom's suit, the light pouring out of it, out of the holes in Doom's mask. And then there is a scream, rending the air, high pitched and agonized... terrified.

"Brother, no!" Thor is there then, slamming down from the air by Loki's and Doom's side, reaching out and grasping hold the smaller god's slender arm. "Stop this." He demands, and Loki looks up at him, his face twisted in anger and disgust.

He says something in return, but Steve is still too far away to make it out, Loki's voice too soft to hear.

He tears away from Thor then, letting Doom go and stepping back, away. He glares at Thor a long moment, fury plain on his face.

And then, in a swift turn, he looks round, before suddenly slicing his hand through the air, so sharp it's as if he's trying to cut through it.

And all at once, every single Doombot collapses like empty shells to the ground, lifeless, useless...

Another explosion of green, blinding light, and Loki is gone.

Doom is still there, lying, moaning and barely conscious on the ground, his suit crushed in and rent apart in several places.

Thor stands, pensive, his arms crossed stiffly over his chest as he stares, unblinking, at the spot his little brother had just been standing a moment before, Wanda beginning to come to, starting to sit up, Clint and Natasha both at her side, checking on her.

Steve can only look on at the scene in horrified confusion as Tony lands beside him, his face mask coming up.

"Uh..." he starts, the whole area suddenly, eerily silent. "what the hell just happened?"

Steve wishes he knew.

He really, really wishes he knew.

/

"Does somebody want to explain to me what the fuck just happened?!"

Clint paces back and forth, plainly irritated and unsettled, the rest of the team standing around, arms crossed and speechless.

"Good question." Tony puts in after a moment. "If I'm not mistaken, or hallucinating, and honestly, I didn't have that much to drink last night, that was Loki. Right? Thor? Talk to me Thunder Thighs. That was baby bro out there?"

Thor shoots a withering glare at Tony, his face set in hard, unhappy lines as he gives a curt, single nod.

"Aye." He answers.

"Right." Tony goes on. "Okay, wow. That's... really horrifying."

"What do you mean?" Thor asks, tone defensive and angry.

"Uh, well..." Tony goes on. "considering crazy cakes just took out Doom and his entire fleet of robo-buddies like they were last Sunday's trash, I'd say that's pretty fucking terrifying. Did you know he was that powerful? Cause I sure didn't know he was that powerful." He turns to Steve, as if asking him.

"I..." Steve starts, having really no idea what to say.

"I have told you all many times of my brother's strength." Thor steps in.

"Yeah, buddy, but..." Tony continues. "we were getting our assess handed to us out there. Seriously. We were losing. And what, Loki just shows up, beats the shit out of Doom, does some magic hand wavy thing and kills all his robots? Are you telling me..."

"As I said, I have told you all many times of my brother's strength. I have told you well how he is the most powerful sorcerer in all of Asgard. Only the All-Father boasts greater power. It is not my failing if you did not listen."

"So what, are you saying your psychotic brother has just been fucking with us this whole time?" Clint snaps, stopping his pacing and staring at Thor. "He's been playing us?"

"If what you mean to ask is, has Loki been serious in intent when he has engaged us in the past, then the answer is no. As you say, Clint Barton, he has been playing us." Thor replies coldly.

"Why?" Natasha asks suddenly.

Thor turns towards her, his eyes narrowed.

"I cannot..." he starts, but she cuts him off.

"Thor, you're not telling us something. You were the only one standing close enough to Loki to hear what he said. If what you say is true, and he's just been playing with us, then why? And why did he even involve himself in this battle? Why did he go after Doom like that?"

"Again, good question." Tony chimes in, and Steve sighs.

They'd all trudged back to Avengers Tower to convene and discuss after SHIELD had taken Doom into custody, Wanda carted off to the infirmary just to check her over, but so far, they were getting nowhere.

The room falls quiet as they wait on Thor to answer, the god looking away from them all, expression stony and thoughtful.

Steve is about the press again for answers when his team mate begins to again speak.

"My brother is living in this realm." He starts, voice unusually subdued. "I am certain you all have gleaned such, given the frequency of his appearances."

"Wait, what do you mean living here?" Clint asks, his face turning pale. "As in... he has a home here or...?"

"He has acquired a place of dwelling, aye." Thor answers bluntly. "An apartment, as you mortals call such things."

"How long have you known about this?" Natasha asks, voice clipped and unhappy.

There is a long pause, Thor's face pulling into a frown.

"... Many months now." He answers at last.

That causes an explosion of questions and protests among the team, voices rising and angry.

The chaos lasts for several seconds, until Steve raises his voice above all of theirs.

"QUIET!" He commands, and everyone falls silent, looking over at him. He shakes his head. "Thor, continue..." he orders.

"... You cannot understand my brother." Thor goes on after a moment. "You cannot know him. His mind is vast, great in its depth. He has lived through much. Seen and experienced such things as none of you could hope to comprehend."

He pauses, turning away.

"You know Loki only as an invader of your world. As a would be dictator. But my brother and I... we are very old. You treat us oft as children for the youthfulness of our appearance. But we have lived many countless centuries. We have lived millennia. And though you have seen us cross weapons, though you have seen us at each others throats..." he shakes his head. "Loki was my most loyal companion for all of our lives. My most trusted friend. You cannot understand. He has saved my life times innumerable. He has spared me pain and humiliation and debasement at the sacrifice of himself suffering these things. So many times. So many countless times. I owe him much. I owe him more than you can ever understand."

At last, Thor turns back to them, staring at each of them, hard and long.

"You may mock me for my sentiment towards him. Chastise me for my continuing to keep his company. I care naught for your disapproval's. He is my little brother, and I love him. Aye, I oft visit him in his small dwelling. I keep company with him. And nay, I will not reveal to you where he resides." He adds in, sharp and quick even as Natasha opens her mouth to ask. "You have seen now a glimpse of what my brother is capable. He play attacks you all. It is a game to him. A thing done for amusement.

You should have little doubt, were he purposeful in his intent against you, it would be over most quick. He could end you all, most simply, most easily. Do not doubt it. Even you, Friend Bruce. Your great Hulk would have not the time to emerge if my brother should not wish it."

"... What about the invasion?" Steve asks, feeling slightly nausea, his head spinning. "He seemed pretty serious about that."

Thor laughs, and Steve stiffens, the rest of the team as visibly uncomfortable.

"I assure you, my brother's attempt on Midgard was anything but. No. I could not at first understand it. Why Loki made so many great blunders. You must understand. My brother has always been a profoundly gifted strategist. It was always he, when we came of age, who formulated our lines of attack and formation on the battle fronts. He and I both have fought in many hundreds of battles. Our experience in war is what you might call extensive. I had thought..." Thor pauses, a pained expression passing over his features for a moment, before he shakes his head and continues on. "I had thought, when we faced my brother during the Chitauri invasion, that Loki's mind had left him. That something had happened to rob him of both his wit and reason. It was the only explanation I could light on to understand his fumbling and clumsy plans.

It is only in these last, several months that I have come to understand that my assumption was only in part correct. No, I tell you now friends, Loki did all he could to ensure we would win the day for your realm. He was not earnest in his attempts to win it himself."

"This... doesn't make any sense." Clint starts, his voice edged hard with anger. "You're telling us your brother wanted us to win that day? How the fuck is that even possible?"

"Why even stage an invasion then?" Natasha asks, the anger less obvious in her voice, instead a kind of cold neutrality overtaking her tone. "Why go through all that? Why cause so much damage?"

Again, there is that pained expression across the god's face.

"I told you I was only in part correct in assuming my brother's mind had left him, and that be the cause of his deranged actions." He starts after a moment, his voice strained. "But my assumption was not wholly false. My brother's mind has been damaged and... he is not as he once was. He is fragile now, in a way I can never recall of him before."

"You mean he's bat shit insane." Tony says, and Thor gives him a withering, dangerous look which shuts Tony right up.

"You will take care how you speak of my brother." Thor snaps. "I am not meant to reveal these things to you. Loki has asked my vow of silence."

"Thor," Steve starts, keeping his voice soft, understanding. "we get that. But this is a matter of security and safety for our entire world. Your brother is residing here, you said. He's living here on Earth. And whether his attempt at taking over our world was serious or not, he still DID attempt it. And you as much as just admitted to us that he isn't mentally stable. You're gonna have to explain to us what's going on."

Thor nods, the lines of anguish on his face only growing deeper.

"It has taken me many months to convince Loki to tell me the truth of what happened to him when he let himself fall into the void. It... I cannot..."

"... Thor." Steve prompts again when several seconds pass by in silence.

"He was found by a creature. By... by a being long thought by us to be mere myth. A being with power enough to rival the All-Father. He is called Thanos, from a race of beings called Titans. In all the stories and histories written of him, we know that he is undoubtedly insane. He is called the Mad Titan. This is who found my brother... who pulled him from the void and..."

"... And?" Clint hisses.

"He kept Loki as his prisoner for nearly a year of your mortal time. He tortured him..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake... You believe that shit!?" Clint starts.

"IT IS NOT A MATTER OF BELIEF!" Thor booms, a crack of thunder crashing outside the tower, so loud it causes the windows to rattle ominously in their frames, and the team falls completely silent.

Thor stares at them all, his eyes shockingly blue, burning too bright to be natural, and Steve knows it's the power of lightening, coursing through his blood.

"... He was tortured." The god finally goes on after long, painful seconds. "In ways so terrible, you cannot even begin to conceive how deeply he has suffered. He showed me his body. It was not an illusion. No trick. I felt the scars with my bare hands. It is a wonder my brother still lives. It is a wonder he has any sound reason left in his mind at all.

Lady Natasha," he turns towards her. "you asked me why it is he invaded your realm, if his intent was never to win it. And I answer you this. It was through this action alone he could find his only means of escape from Thanos. The Titan wished for him to come here... to retrieve for him the Tesseract and open a portal through which his Chitauri army could invade. He needed my brother to do this. Loki possesses a vast and intricate knowledge of the paths between worlds. He is one of the few in all the realms truly able to walk the branches of Yggdrasil. Able to navigate their treacherous ways. Thanos, for all his great power, does not possess a linked energy to the Great Ash, as my brother does. He is not of her as Loki is.

And my brother, for nearly as long as he was held captive, refused to yield to Thanos' demands. And he did suffer for it. Beyond your understanding. He knew he would die then, if he continued thusly. Knew if he had any hope left of surviving, he would have to yield. But Loki has ever been the cleverest of gods, and he yielded full with the intent to betray Thanos, and keep the Tesseract from his hands. It was his only chance, and he took it."

Steve could hardly believe what he was hearing. Couldn't begin to wrap his mind around it. It all seemed unreal. Seemed too bizarre, too much.

"Then why does he keep attacking us?" Tony's voice jars him from his thoughts. "If everything you say is true, why does he keep acting like some crazed villain? Why not just come clean and tell us the truth? He's constantly being hunted by SHIELD, and by us. He's on several most wanted lists. He has to realize, if he's so smart, that he could save himself a lot of grief if he just told us what he's apparently told you."

"Aye," Thor nods, his arms folding tighter over his chest. "that he could. But it is many things which keeps him from it. It is his pride, which has ever been my brother's greatest weakness. And it is the damage wrought to his mind from the tortures he endured. I told you he is not as he was. He is damaged now. Broken, in a way. Grown reckless and careless. He seems... he seems not in control of his emotions as once he was. I have seen him erupt into unreasonable rage, and a moment later, break down into uncontrollable sobs."

"Is that why he attacked Doom?" Natasha presses.

"... My brother claims Doom has wronged him in some way." Thor goes on after a moment's hesitation. "Though I know not how."

"Wronged him? What are they, buddies or something? Are they hanging out together?" Tony starts.

"I know not." Thor begins. "I visit my brother sparingly, and know little of what he does in those moments between."

"Oh, well, that's just great." Clint throws his hands up. "So your little brother, who's apparently even more psycho than we previously imagined, and also apparently uber fucking powerful, is living somewhere in the middle of New York, someplace, by the way, you won't tell us where, having periodic emotional breakdowns and occasionally launching attacks on the local populace, because he thinks it's fun, throwing in one or two other super villain beat down's once in a while, just for good measure. Yup. All sounds fine and dandy to me."

"You will cease in your degrading words concerning my brother." Thor snarls at him, thunder again roiling outside the windows.

"Guys, that's enough!" Steve snaps. "This infighting isn't solving anything." He continues when he has everyone's attention. "Thor, look, I'm willing to give the benefit of the doubt here and believe what you're telling us. But it also sounds to me like Loki is pretty unstable right now. Sure, he helped us out today, for whatever reason. But who's to say he won't snap and turn his power against us at some point? If he attacked us with the same abilities he showed earlier against Doom, then we're gonna have a serious problem on our hands."

"He will not..." Thor begins, but Steve shakes his head, cutting him off.

"He needs to be brought in Thor." He says. "If what you're saying is true, it sounds to me like your brother is suffering from PTSD. And with the kind of power he has, that could spell big trouble."

"You would not be able to contain him." Thor counters hotly. "And you only risk incurring his wrath by doing so."

"Well we can't leave him out there." Tony puts in. "Thor, buddy, he's a wanted war criminal. And he's dangerous. Obviously."

"I will not hand my brother over to you." Thor answers fast. "You will not coerce me. If, by chance, the next time he makes a display of engaging you, you manage somehow to capture him, then I will not step in to prevent it. But I will not show you where he dwells. I cannot betray his trust in such a manner."

And with that, the god turns on his heel, striding from the room, leaving the rest of the team without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki's chest heaves as he struggles for breath, his knees going out from under him, hands burying, tugging at the strands of his hair.

He's having another attack.

He knows this with reason. Knows this outside himself, outside these feelings drowning him, pulling him under, into the black of nothingness.

Knowing so does nothing to keep him from falling.

He breathes ragged, the air pushing in and out of him is harsh gasps.

"Think..." he grinds his teeth together, fingers pulling harder. "Think your way from this, you fool!"

Only he of all people knows it is never so simple. Escape never so easy.

It was Doom. He knows that. It was seeing the arrogant, ignorant, pathetic mortal which has set these feelings off inside him.

The presumptuous dullard had actually thought, had made an attempt to enter into his dwelling, had made an attempt to abduct him. Tried to steal away his own power, his magic.

Loki could laugh now for the incomprehensible stupidity of it all, only he had been filled with such rage, and, deeper still, an almost suffocating fear as he'd been assaulted by memories... and he'd thought... for moments which seemed to stretch forever... he'd thought he was back there... thought he was trapped again... held within the power of the Mad Titan, and he couldn't get out, couldn't fight back... couldn't... couldn't do anything.

Helpless... helpless...

And then his mind had come again to the present, and Doom, the fool, had barely escaped with his life.

Loki would have ended him then and there had he not still be reeling from his own, traitorous mind.

When he'd seen on the box of moving pictures that Doom was, only some few weeks later, attacking the city, Loki had made the fast decision to finish what he had already started, in the process perhaps glean from Doom where and how he had discovered his dwelling before ending his pitiful, worthless life.

But then Thor... oh Thor, his oafish, idiot brother had interfered, as he seemed always to do, telling him no, telling him it was wrong, wrong to take the life of a helpless enemy.

And what did Thor know of it!? What did he know of helplessness?! What did he know of right or wrong? Thor, who always was right, who always was so perfect, so without doubt or fear or...

When had his brother become so soft hearted, that he would consider at all a fate other than death for his enemies?

He couldn't understand. Couldn't know what it was to have a threat against you such as Doom had so impetuously leveled against him. Couldn't know what it meant, what it... it...

He grinds his teeth harder, his nails digging painfully into his scalp as he clamps his lids shut, a half-strangled scream lodging in his throat as he forces it back down, a guttural growl slipping past his lips.

He has to calm down, he thinks, heart beating too hard, too fast against his ribs.

It isn't real. The thoughts in his head, they aren't real, just memories... only memories... And Doom... Doom was just a man... just a weak mortal. He could do nothing, nothing to harm him.

Oh, but he would kill the little child, Loki thinks. He would find him and kill him. Whether Thor tried again to stop him, he would not hesitate next time, would not allow his brother to dissuade him and...

And...

He couldn't take this. He had to get out... had to go elsewhere... the confines of his small space nearly suffocating.

He knew it was a risk, going out into the streets so soon after the encounter with Doom and the Avengers, but it hardly mattered, in truth.

Even were it to happen that Thor's companions should see him, they could once again try their hand at apprehension.

Loki might even welcome the effort, as a means of distraction.

That was, after all, all he sought these days, when he made his little attacks on their bustling city.

A distraction...

An escape from his own, Hel-bound thoughts.

/

"Cap... what exactly are we doing here?" Tony asks, not for the first time, since they started on this little, suicidal venture of theirs.

Tony doesn't know about Steve, but he really doesn't feel like pissing a god off today and getting himself turned into a pile of glowing green dust, thank you very much.

And after what they watched Loki do to Doom, Tony has very little doubt Thor's wayward little brother could do just that. To probably all of them.

Steve, he thinks, may have been bitten by the cray-cray bug, with the way he'd ordered the team out onto the streets to look for Loki after Thor had stormed out of their conference. To what end, Tony still isn't quite sure.

Steve had given no more than a vague, generalized answer, that Loki was clearly a top priority. That a being of that power, mixed with the apparent instability that Thor had described, simply couldn't be left out on the streets, un-dealt with.

Tony got that. He really did. But he was damned if he could figure out just exactly how Steve thought this random wandering about the city was going to get them any closer to finding out where Loki was.

In New York... there was just no way.

Maybe if it had been some normal super-villain they were dealing with. You know, one who couldn't teleport immeasurable distances in literally less than a second.

But Loki could. He could do that. And for all they knew, the maniac wasn't even in New York anymore. He could be in some other state, some other country, hell, on some other planet. They couldn't know.

The whole endeavor was the very definition of futile, and Tony was starting to get tired.

"Cap, listen, we've been out for a couple hours already and, I'm gonna be honest, our chances of finding Loki are slim to no..."

"Eyes on target!" Clint's voice crackles loudly in Tony's ear, urgent and halfway to panicked.

"Wait... what!?" Tony breathes, disbelieving.

That couldn't be right. Not even remotely. Clint must have...

"Confirm Hawkeye." Steve's voice snaps out.

"The son of a bitch is sitting outside at a cafe, on the corner of Madison and 26th. Just fuckin' sitting there, drinking a fucking latte or something!"

"You have eyes on him?" Steve asks.

"I'm sitting fifty yards out from the bastard." Clint answers quickly. "I could sink an arrow into his eye from here."

"Negative Hawkeye." Steve orders. "Do not engage."

"But..." Clint starts, and the Captain shuts him down immediately.

"Do not engage." He repeats harshly. "Does he know you've spotted him?"

There's a long moment of silence, and Tony feels his gut clench.

Clint wouldn't actually be stupid enough to try and take on Loki by himself, would he?

"... I don't think so." The archer finally answers, and Tony breathes out a sigh of relief. "He seems distracted. He keeps putting his head in his hands."

"... Oh boy." Tony says. "Does he look like he's having a meltdown?"

"... Kinda. Yeah." Comes Clint's unwanted answer.

"Well shit..." Tony starts.

"Why is he even out?" Natasha chimes in then. "After what just happened with Doom? Loki's usually smarter than that."

"Fine line between genius and madness, remember." Tony adds uselessly.

"It could be a trap." Natasha goes on talking as if she hasn't even heard Tony. "Be careful Clint. Stay out of sight."

"I'm not stupid 'Tash." Clint answers hotly.

"When it comes to him you are." She answers cooly back, and Clint, apparently, has nothing to say to that.

"Hold your position." Steve again. "We'll meet you there and then decide the best course."

"Shouldn't we wait for Thor?" Tony supplies. "I think we should wait for Thor."

"Thor won't help us. He said so himself." Steve answers. "We need to deal with this on our own."

"And do what?" Tony asks, irritation starting to build, mixed in with very real fear, though he won't admit that, ever. "Walk up to Thor's psychotic, cosmically powerful brother and tell him he's under arrest? I don't think that's gonna work Cap."

Again, there comes a long silence, and again Tony feels the stirrings of unease.

"... I wanna try talking to him." Steve at last answers.

Tony can't help it.

He explodes into a laugh.

"You wanna... y-you wanna tal... talk to him!?" He manages to splutter out, not believing his ears. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

Tony's sentiment is apparently shared, as he hears Clint cursing and protesting hotly through the com, equally as shocked, though there's a tone of anger to his, not hilarity.

"You've all said it yourself." Steve cuts in, his own voice full of command, shutting Clint down. "We aren't going to take Loki. He's too powerful for that, and we've been doing nothing but playing his game for months. If he's as unstable as Thor said, then it's only a matter of time before he potentially loses it, and his attacks aren't a game anymore. We need to do something now to prevent that."

"Yeah, like killing him. That's a good solution." Clint snaps.

"And then Thor would kill us." Natasha says calmly. "That's even assuming we could take Loki out. Which we can't."

"No killing." Steve says firmly in response. "No engagement until we arrive. And then we approach this carefully."

"Can't I just..." Clint begins to protest.

"No." Steve cuts him off sharply.

And that's the end of that.

/

Tony feels slightly nauseous, sitting here behind a row of bushes, watching Thor's brother some, Clint was right, fifty yards away, having, again Clint was right, a fucking meltdown.

At least, that's what it looks like to Tony.

The skinny little shit is holding his head in his big ass hands, visibly agitated and restless.

He hasn't done anything yet, no outbursts of violence, no sudden explosions of magic.

The waitress has been by twice, and both those times, Loki has somehow managed to look up at her and smile politely, exchanging a few words before the woman scurried away again.

But something clearly isn't right, either.

There's the rocking back and forth, for one thing. Never a good sign, in Tony's not so limited experience. The twisting of long, thin fingers in inky black, unkempt locks.

Oh, and Loki's also wearing the same non-dress he was earlier. Grey sweat pants, no socks, and a thin t-shirt, the god's skinny, pasty white arms sticking out of the sleeves like a couple of spaghetti strings.

Tony still can't believe the bastard is strong enough to crush Doom's armor in his bare hands, the way he watched him do.

He doesn't look like he can weight more than 150, 160 pounds, tops.

Compared to Thor, who's so fucking built you can believe it when he picks up a car like it weighs as much as a feather, or crushes six inch metal walls in like they were made of paper, Loki looks like some starved little kid, albeit one with exceptional height.

From here, Tony can see the guy's naked feet are dirty, like he's been walking around without shoes for a long while now.

Yeah, this is all awful.

"Soooo, what's the plan Cap?" He asks after several minutes of tension filled and silent observation.

Loki never even once picks up the drink he's apparently ordered, just continuing to sit there gripping his head like he's suffering the world's worst migraine.

"We need to form a perimeter," Steve starts. "in case things get out of hand."

"I don't know what you're talking about Cap." Tony says glibly. "That's never going to happen."

"Shut up Stark." Natasha says, and Tony knows better than to argue.

"Tony, Clint, Natasha, I want you to fall out. Stand point and keep watch. If things start to seem like they're going south, I need you to act quickly to contain the situation. Get everybody out if you think it's necessary."

"This is insane." Tony says at the same moment Clint let's loose a litany of curse words.

"Why didn't we bring Bruce again?" Tony goes on after a moment.

"Because the Hulk would add so much calm to an already uncertain situation." Natasha deadpans.

"At least the Hulk might be able to take the scrawny bastard." Tony argues petulantly.

"I don't think so." Natasha replies, unfazed.

And that's when Tony's heart sinks right into the pit of his stomach.

Natasha sounds... scared. Like, actually scared.

They are so, so screwed.

/

Steve knows he's been made before he's even made it halfway to where Loki is sitting, the god looking up and directly at him.

Steve isn't stupid enough to assume then that Loki isn't aware of the rest of his team, and he feels his stomach churn unpleasantly, fear uncurling inside him.

If Loki panics, it would endanger the lives of everyone around them. Innocent people who would have no way of defending themselves.

The god is looking at him intently now, eyes sharp and too knowing, but he doesn't make a move beyond that, and Steve puts his hands up, palms out, praying that Loki understands the gesture.

With each step closer, Steve feels more and more wary, the fear sharp. Like he's approaching some viciously dangerous predator. But still, Loki makes no move, his eyes never leaving the Captain, until Steve is standing only a few feet away, coming to a stop, hands still raised.

Loki is leaned back in his flimsy, metal chair now, staring up at the Captain, his expression unreadable. Steve can't help but notice this close just how haggard the god's appearance is. He looks wane and much too thin, dark circles under his eyes, marring his otherwise incredibly youthful face.

Steve is so used to seeing Loki decked out in full armor, it never really occurred to him before just how... well, how small he is.

He's tall, for sure. Almost as tall as Thor, certainly two or three inches taller than Steve himself. But the Captain had never realized just how much bulk the guy's armor actually added. He'd always had the impression that Loki was broad and physically imposing. But looking at him now, dressed so sparingly, Loki looks almost weak.

The Captain isn't going to make the mistake of assuming he is. Steve knows he isn't.

He swallows thickly, afraid despite himself. More for the people around them than for himself.

"... Loki." He finally starts. "Can we talk?"

Loki continues to stare back at him for long seconds, saying nothing, and Steve begins to feel distinctly uncomfortable.

Loki's face is young, but his eyes are old.

Steve gets the feeling that Loki can see straight into who he is. Can see everything about him. All his strengths, all his weaknesses. All his greatest fears and hopes and dreams...

It's a struggle not to begin squirming where he stands, forcing himself to hold still.

Until, eventually, finally, Loki nods at him, gesturing elegantly to the seat opposite him, inviting Steve to sit.

Steve does so, muttering out a thank you.

"You can tell your companions they needn't stand at the ready. I intend no hostility." Loki tells him as soon as he's seated, and Steve looks up at him, seeing the god smiling faintly back at him.

"... It's just a precaution." Steve starts.

"You claim to wish only to speak, and yet your three companions now all have their weapons trained on me. Preemptive hostility is still hostility, dear Captain."

Steve looks back at Loki for long seconds then, trying to glean what it is he's really thinking. If he intends to attack the second his team relaxes. But he can't tell anything. Loki's face is a blank mask to him.

He hesitates a moment longer, before speaking into his com.

"Avengers, stand down." He says and Loki smiles brightly at him, even as he hears an explosion of confused and angry chattering inside his ear.

"Commendable Captain." Loki says in his soft and eloquent voice. "Your show of manners is appreciated."

"If you try anything," Steve starts, not particularly liking the god's mocking tone.

"If I try anything, Captain Steven Rogers, you will be dead before you can even realize I have. As will your team. You wish to talk, and yet already I have perceived two, blunt threats against my person. You will have to make up your mind as to your own intentions."

"Alright, alright." Steve puts his hands up again, an awful panic uncurling in his belly. "I'm sorry. Just... I do want to talk. That's it. We don't want any trouble."

"Then you aren't completely without wit." Loki answers coldly, and Steve realizes just how close he'd been to really pissing the god off.

Way to go, Rogers, he thinks in frustration.

"Pray, Captain, what is it you wished to speak of?" Loki prompts after a moment, and Steve notices the god's thin hands fidgeting restlessly with the paper cup holding his still untouched drink.

He's losing patience, the Captain realizes.

That's not good, for anyone involved.

"We talked to Thor." He blurts suddenly, and watches as Loki immediately stiffens, his shoulders snapping into a tense line, his hands clenching into fists. "... We know he's been visiting you. That you're living here, and that you've been more or less playing with us each time you stage an attack."

Loki regards him for long seconds then, unmoving, his eyes never blinking.

Again, Steve finds himself unable to discern what the god is thinking.

"... Well," Loki finally begins. "that took longer than expected. Did by chance my brother reveal to you the location of my dwelling?"

"No." Steve answers. "He didn't. But..."

"So Thor shows moderately fine judgment. I will assume you attempted to persuade my brother to reveal to you the place of my residence. I suggest against you trying the same with me."

"Loki, look..." Steve tries, feeling with each passing moment as though he's losing more and more control, if he ever had any to begin with. "it's a matter of security. You may not have caused any civilian deaths in the last year, but you've still be causing massive amounts of property damage, as well as serious distress and panic among the city's populace. This may be a game to you Loki, but it's anything but to the people's who's lives you're endangering."

For a moment, Loki's face goes entirely blank, his eyes growing distant, unfocused, and Steve feels his stomach drop unpleasantly an instant before the god's face twists abruptly into an angry snarl.

"I endanger none of their lives!" He snaps, voice thick with rage. "Foolish mortal! You understand nothing!"

"Loki, just calm down." Steve placates urgently, seeing how truly upset Loki is. "I didn't mean..."

"Do you think me so careless!?" Loki talks right over him. "So blundering? Do you not think if I wished it, I could end the life of every pathetic, mewling man, woman and child residing in this stinking, backwater city of yours?"

Steve's own temper flares then, disgust and anger surging up into his throat and past his teeth.

"You killed hundreds when you invaded!" He nearly shouts. "Or don't you remember? Hundreds of lives lost, hundreds more ruined, all because you wanted to rule this stinking, backwater planet, as you call it!"

Loki stands abruptly, his entire frame trembling with obvious, naked rage, his eyes too bright, viciously green, his jaw clenched hard, hands fist at his sides.

"... You understand nothing." He says, and his voice is hardly a whisper. "Nothing."

There is a rushing sound then, like something cutting through the air, and quicker than Steve's eyes can follow, Loki's hand shoots up, and an instant later, the Captain sees he is holding one of Clint's arrows.

The god's eyes remain on him, boring into him with disdain and disgust equal, and Steve sees his hand shaking where it grips the arrow's shaft.

A moment later, and the thing snaps in two and Loki tosses it to the ground.

And then he smashes his fist against the table top, the thing collapsing like matchsticks to the ground, shattering into what must be a hundred pieces.

"Mother fucker!" He hears Clint's voice through the com, Tony doing the same.

There's a bright flash of green light, blinding Steve.

He throws his arms up over his head, expecting an attack, thinking, grimly, that this is it.

But then there's nothing.

No sound beyond the astonished and terrified murmurs around him, the noise of plates dropping and glasses breaking.

The sound of his team, shouting after him as they run in his direction.

When Steve looks back to where Loki had been, he sees the god is gone, his untouched drink spilled and ruined among the destroyed remains of the table.

/


	3. Chapter 3

Thor felt a surge of sickening panic uncurling in his chest as he flew in the direction of Loki's apartment.

He could only pray to the Norns that his brother had returned there after the egregious blunder his comrades had made in approaching him.

Thor had been furious, unable to keep his temper entirely in check as he'd flipped the long table in their conference room, spilling all its contents as he'd bellowed loudly in rage.

He'd felt only vaguely abashed at the way his friends had flinched back and stared at him in obvious fear.

Only vaguely, for his anger still ruled him, even now.

He had chastised them thoroughly for their foolishness. Steve had attempted to explain to him the reasoning behind their actions, saying he only wanted to help, to perhaps persuade Loki to come in, to accept an offer of assistance, to help him "deal", as the Captain put it, with his troubles.

Thor had understood. He knew Steve's heart was a good one, that his intentions were good.

He even trusted in the purity of all their intentions, save perhaps Barton, who though Thor knew to be a good man, knew also to hold a vicious, if understandable, disdain for his brother.

But he had explained to Steve and the rest, when he had been able to calm himself, if only outwardly, that approaching Loki on the streets and speaking to him as they had, would lead only to his brother pulling back, and perhaps, most dangerously, acting out.

They did not know Loki as he did. They did not understand the maze of complexity and hazardous ground one tread in engaging his younger brother in simple conversation.

Loki had ever been of a most sensitive and deeply emotional nature. Perhaps, now, he was that way more than ever.

To Thor's own shame, it had taken him centuries upon centuries to realize it himself. To realize how his own, thoughtless words and actions, things he'd said and done without care, without caution, had always had a profound impact on his brother.

Thor had been a fool, believing that what did not hurt or trouble him, did not hurt or trouble his friends, could not possibly hurt or trouble Loki. And so he had thought nothing of teasing his brother, thought nothing of harassing and embarrassing him before others. Thought nothing of speaking callously, speaking even at times unkindly towards his sensitive and, for a long time, gentle brother.

By the time he had realized his folly, it had been far too late.

Centuries of abuse and bullying from the court, married to his own, unsympathetic and uncaring attitude, had pushed his brother to the limits of sanity.

What had happened to him in the void had torn asunder what little reason he might have still possessed.

And though Loki was better now, it was still painfully apparent he suffered greatly under the weight of the torments he'd endured.

His friends couldn't understand.

Loki had revealed to him in confidence the truth of what had been done, shown him the evidence, all too plainly.

All too plainly, Thor saw the scars deeper than his brother's skin, in the tears he wept and the bouts of rage and grief so powerful, there had been too many moments when Thor had truly felt frightened Loki would lose all control of his power and reduce the entirety of this realm to dust.

It had taken everything within Thor, at those moments, to calm his brother, holding onto him, no matter the danger to himself, rocking him gently, kissing his brow, his crown, telling him again and again and again that it was well. That everything would be well.

Thusly, he had not failed yet in bringing Loki back to himself, to the present, to his own safety.

Thor feared the day he might.

His friends did not know Loki's power. Did not know his own even.

If either of them wished it, they could, in the most literal sense, cause the mortal's entire world to implode in on itself.

The way would be different between them, but that was the power each of them held.

His friends did not know it.

They saw too little of Loki to realize it, and Thor had ever kept his own strength deeply in check, lest he should frighten them unnecessarily.

It takes him not long to arrive at his brother's dwelling, and he gains easy entry, Loki having relaxed the wards here for him and him alone.

"Loki." He calls out, striding past the foyer, into the first rooms. "Brother."

A surge of relief washes through him when he spots Loki, seated along the couch, in front of the moving picture box, though the feeling is short lived as he observes his brother, the way he hunches over, his arms wrapped round his middle as though he were in a great deal of pain.

"Loki," he starts again, walking cautiously forward.

"Your friends are all idiots." Loki says, and though is voice is rough and strained, Thor cannot help smiling at the mild humor in it.

"They are children." He says, coming nearer.

"Mmm." Loki replies, still staring straight ahead, even as Thor settles himself onto the couch, beside him. "Idiot children."

Thor laughs loudly then, reaching out and putting arm arm round his brother's slim shoulders, pulling him gently to his side.

"You'll find no argument from me there Loki." He says, his relief returning as he sees his brother smiling vaguely in return.

A few, long seconds pass in comfortable silence then, Loki relaxing against Thor's side, and the older god, not for the first time, thanks the Norns for returning his brother to him. For allowing him this.

It had not been easy.

For many months, Loki had refused him entry into his home at all. And when at last Thor had gained his trust enough for so small a thing, it had taken many months more before Loki had begun to open to him, and speak with him.

There had been many days in which the two of them had sat in absolute silence, Loki refusing to meet his gaze, Thor struggling not to push him, to demand answers and explanations.

Thor is grateful too for the patience he had been able to exercise during those times, for he knew, had he pushed Loki, he and his brother would never have reformed even a part of the bond they had once shared as children and young men.

One day, Loki had just begun speaking, and Thor knew not how many nights he had wept himself to sleep, with all his brother had at last revealed to him.

The horror of what he'd suffered...

It had at times felt selfish to Thor, that he should indulge his own misery so, when Loki was the one who had lived through it. When his brother was the one who must carry its burden with him for always.

But neither could Thor help it. Not when Loki had always been his charge. Not when Loki was his little brother, when Thor was meant to protect and defend him with his every and last breath. When Thor had prided himself on his prowess and strength in just that task.

He could not help his bitter tears then, when he thought of how utterly he had failed his little brother. How entirely he had let him down.

"... I suppose I've caused another tizzy among them." Loki's soft voice breaks his thoughts, and he looks to his brother, frowning. Loki still hasn't looked at him, and a familiar worry churns in the pit of Thor's stomach.

"You did nothing so terrible." He answers. "Though, I fear you may have well tipped your hand. They have an idea now of the power you wield."

"Yes," Loki says, and at last he turns, looking to Thor.

It is an effort for the older god, not to show his own distress at his brother's wasted and suffering appearance.

"And you did me no favor by attempting explanation of my actions, or revealing my residence in their city."

"I had little choice Loki." Thor counters quickly, fearful that his brother will be upset with him. "They persisted in their questioning restlessly, and it would have been to them suspicious if I had refused to speak at all."

"Aye," Loki says. "and now they will pursue me just as restlessly. I shall have to move from here, to elsewhere."

"And if you hadn't made so blatant an attempt on Doom, I would not have had to speak at all." Thor replies, feeling a surge of annoyance.

Loki huffs, turning away again and abruptly standing, pacing away from the couch.

"... I had an opportunity." He says. "I had to act."

"Loki," Thor starts, the anger going out of his voice. "what is your quarrel with Doom? How did he do you harm?"

His brother gives a sharp laugh then, shaking his head, turning back towards him.

"... You need only know I had my reasons Thor, and they were sound. Do not regard me as though I am without wits."

Thor only continues to stare back at him, unwilling to accept that for an answer, until his brother growls in obvious frustration, again turning his back.

"The impudent fool attempted to abduct me, brother." He at last spits, and Thor starts, rising from his seat, his heart hammering in his chest.

"He what!?" He says, disbelieving.

Again, Loki laughs, starting towards the small kitchen of his apartment.

"Amusing, is it not? The mortal's greed for power at times know no bounds."

"Did he harm you?" Thor asks, alarmed, his anger beginning to build.

Loki scoffs, pulling open a cabinet and taking a box from it, hot chocolate mix, Thor sees, moving to the ice box then, removing a carton of milk.

"No." He answers, going to the stove, pulling a pan from a shelf. "The wretch is hopelessly clumsy in his technique, his magic laughably weak. It is merely the audacity displayed which begged my retaliation. No mortal will lay his hands on me and live to tell it. My actions were justified Thor. You will admit that."

Thor sighs, anger still roiling inside him as he forces himself to calm.

"Aye Loki." He starts. "I will. But you must also realize the human's have laws, and your continual breaking of them draws their attention to you. They feel obligated to intervene. They feel you a threat to their safety."

"And they would well know were my threats purposeful." Loki says, beginning to heat a pot of milk on the stove. "I only play with them."

"Of course." Thor says. "But they are frightened now Loki. They think you will..."

He pauses, watching the line of his brother's shoulders stiffen, back going rigid.

"They think I will what Thor?" Loki turns, glaring at him.

And finally Thor looks away, a feeling of guilt rising up from the pit of his stomach.

Loki, of course, sees it immediately, etched across his face.

"What did you tell them Thor?" He asks, his voice suddenly harsh and accusing. "... What did you tell them?"

"... Little. Only little." Thor answers weakly, knowing it a useless endeavor, trying to deceive Loki.

He risks glancing to his brother, and sees Loki cock his head to the side, a look of deep displeasure lining his features, his eye vibrating dangerously.

"You told them more than that." He says, and it isn't a question. "You... you told them what I... how I am, now, how I..."

"Loki, please, do not become upset." Thor raises his hands in an attempt to placate. "I... I merely wished to make them understand. To see that you are not the mad, evil being you present yourself to be."

"And that was your right?!" Loki shoots back, his voice pitching higher. "That was your right, to reveal to them... t-to... to tell them about..."

"I told them nothing truly. Nothing in detail. I only told them you were suffering..."

"And so you assume I want their pity!? That I need such?!" Loki cuts him off, harsh and quick. "You humiliate me before them! Make me appear as weak!"

"Loki, that is not..." Thor tries, seeing his brother leaning dangerously close to a loss of control.

"I told you all this in confidence." Loki goes on over him, and abruptly the anger in his voice is gone, replaced by such woeful anguish that Thor feels his own eyes stinging with sudden tears. "It was not meant... not meant for anyone else. Thor, I do not want them to know."

"I know." Thor says, both relief and regret taking hard hold of him. "I know Loki. I am sorry. Please. I did not mean to humiliate you. That was never my intent, and... and if you knew my friends as I do, you would know they think no less of you for what I said. They do not think you weak."

Loki's face crumples, and he turns away, his back to Thor once again, and it pains Thor so much to see the thinness of his brother. To see how very frail he looks in that moment, the blades of his shoulders poking prominently through the thin material of his short-sleeved tunic, his spine obvious.

He hasn't been taking care of himself, Thor thinks despondently. Thor hasn't been taking care of him either.

And it strikes the older god in that instant, how truly Loki needs someone to do that. Needs someone to care for him, look after him, make certain he is well and hale and whole.

Loki, these days, seems almost incapable of doing it himself.

Loki leans over onto the stove, his hands gripping the instruments edge as he shakes his head back and forth in some sort of pained denial.

"Do you think so Thor?" He asks suddenly, and his voice is quiet. "Do you think your mortal friends so different from your companions of old? Did they not laugh at me? Did they not think me weak, and pathetic and cowardly? Did they not make of me sport because I was weaker than they?"

Thor turns away, tears welling in his eyes, unable to press them back now as he remembers... as he acknowledges to himself at last... at last, that, aye, his friends had been cruel. And so had he, at times. His cruelty born more from his inaction, theirs from the bluntness of their dislike, the nakedness of their disdain for Loki, who was younger than they, who would near beg at times to be allowed to join in their games, and they would tell him with near relish, no, no, no.

Thor remembers with too vivid clarity those times he had found his brother hidden away in his rooms, crying. Remembers too clearly how he had chastised Loki for it. Told him it was unbecoming a prince and a warrior to weep like a girl.

Loki had only been a child, and he had...

"I'm sorry." Loki's voice again snaps him from his thoughts, and he looks back to his brother, still bent over the stove. "I shouldn't... I'm sorry. I know you mean well Thor, it is only..."

He shakes his head, removing the pan of milk from off the stoves heater, pulling two glasses from one of the cabinets and pouring the milk into them, mixing the chocolate powder in a moment later.

He turns towards Thor, carrying the glasses over.

Thor takes the offered drink, muttering out a thank you.

"What is it you want from me brother?" Loki asks after a long moment. "What is it you want me to do?"

"Nothing." Thor shakes his head. "I want nothing from you Loki. I want only... only to help you."

"You can't." Loki says quickly.

"Loki," Thor tries, but his brother just shakes his head.

"You wish me to stop, to join you and your companions. To be a hero. Like you Thor. I cannot be. I cannot be you."

"I do not want..." Thor tries again, and again, his brother talks over him.

"You do! Thor, you do!" He says, his voice breaking apart, filled with pain, his eyes filling fast with tears. "Always have you told me... have you demonstrated to me, if only I could be as you are, if only I could act more as you, feel more as you, think more as you, all of my troubles, all of my despondences and despairs would melt away. But I cannot be as you are Thor. I cannot be..."

And Loki turns suddenly away, covering his eyes with his hand, his frame growing stiff and trembling with emotion.

Shame heats Thor's face then as his brother's words sink in. Shame, for he realizes Loki is right, again.

It had never been intentional. Never a calculated or thoughtful approach, and perhaps, Thor thinks dismally, that had made it worse.

For every time he criticized and belittled his brother for behaving differently, reacting differently, feeling differently than him. For every time he accused his brother of imagining his hurts and sadness, for imagining slights, when, as Thor forced himself to look back and truly examine his memories of their lives, he was faced only with the brutal and ugly reality that Loki had never been treated well as he by the Aesir, never been treated with the same amount of respect, or love or dignity. That, in truth, Loki had oft been the target of the courtiers and noble's disdains and jests and unkind, degrading rumors.

That, before Loki had let himself fall into the void of space, before Loki had tried to... to end his own life, it had grown so terrible for him in the court that many had started simply to laugh in and speak insults to his face, rather than hide it behind his back, as once they might have.

Only now was Thor able to step back from the truth of Loki's circumstance and place it against his own. Only now was he able to see the thrice suffered agony his brother endured when his lack of regard and respect amongst his subjects was directly countered against the lavish praise and love and admiration Thor himself received.

As usual, Thor thinks then, his words have only managed to make things worse.

He's never known how to talk to Loki. How to say the right things.

And so instead, he carefully places the glass of warmed, chocolate milk onto the low table and moves towards his brother.

"I'm sorry Loki." He says, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms round Loki's thin frame. "I know, and I'm sorry."

Relief floods him when he feels Loki's dry hands gripping gently along his forearm over his brother's chest.

"I only worry for you." He says softly, and is relieved further to hear Loki chuckle lightly.

"You needn't. Thor, there is naught in this realm capable of hurting me."

"Perhaps not." Thor answers. "But what of yourself brother? I fear you treat your own life recklessly at times. You may not fear my mortal companions, but your continual attacks on their city, though they be only in jest, nonetheless put risk to your well being. I do not wish you to be as I am. I do not ask that you join me in my endeavors. Only... I wish you did not have to play this role of villain you seem determined to make everyone believe of you. Loki, you are no villain."

A heavy and long silence falls between them then, his brother saying nothing, holding worryingly still.

"... Aren't I?" He finally breathes, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

"Loki, no..." Thor answers, a feeling of urgency slipping into his tone. And he turns Loki then so that he is facing him, looking down into his brother's pain lined face. "You are not." Thor goes on, voice firm. "You may not know it of yourself brother, but you have in you a good heart. I know you act out as you do to stave off already expected hurt."

Loki scoffs, turning his face away, tears continuing to slip silently down his gaunt cheeks.

"Please Loki," Thor persists, refusing to be put off by Loki's dismissive attitude. "I wish only for you to believe in yourself. To give yourself that chance."

"... Believe in myself?" Loki echoes back at him, voice distant and lost, his face still turned aside. "Oh Thor," he says almost silently then. "my sweet, naive brother. You wish me to believe in myself. It shows only you believe too much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to all my readers and reviewers! If you get a chance, please let me know your thoughts!


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